


Five Times Jensen Mocked Misha's Name and the One Time Misha Mocked His

by Aria_Lerendeair



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: 5+1 Things, Bad Flirting, Flirting, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Jensen Teasing Misha, M/M, Pranking, cuteness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-08-07 20:03:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7728013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aria_Lerendeair/pseuds/Aria_Lerendeair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times through the years where Jensen mocked Misha's name, and/or made jokes about it - Starting from the first day they met, to years later, down the line, when their friendship and teasing turns into something more.  Then, of course, Misha mocks Jensen's name, and things between them change forever (in the best way).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times Jensen Mocked Misha's Name and the One Time Misha Mocked His

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the DeanCas Summer Mini Bang!! 
> 
> Oh my gosh, you absolutely have to check out the beautiful and incredible graphic that sassydean did, please click on the link below it's PERFECT. 
> 
> [Incredible Art Link Here!!!!](http://profuond.tk/post/148708267947/dcsmb2)

 

 

1\. Introductions

 

“Misha?” Jensen asked, wrinkling his nose at Jared. “ _Misha_?”

 

Jared raised both of his hands and shook his head. “New guy on set, for the arc with the angel. I saw him earlier and introduced myself.”

 

Jensen huffed and grabbed one of the water bottles, following Jared to where the crew was finishing the blocking of the scene they were about to shoot. “Seriously though. Who names their kid _Misha_?”

 

“I don’t know _Jensen_ ,” Jared shot back, raising both of his eyebrows. “He seemed nice enough, and if you quit bitching, maybe I’ll pick on him instead of you for the next scene.”

 

“You are a menace to society,” Jensen grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest to glare at Jared.

 

Jared laughed and waved to Clif as they stepped on set. “You won’t hear me arguing. But you know you want no one else’s feet on your balls, Jen.”

 

“Well, that’s one hell of an introduction,” a voice behind them said, curiosity obvious.

 

Jensen bit down on his lip and stared up at the ceiling. He was going to _kill_ Jared. Maim him, maybe, so he’d still have a job. He was pretty sure he could do it without getting caught too, if he tried hard enough.

 

He turned to the new guy and forced a smile on his face, holding his hand out. “Jensen Ackles.”

 

A warm, calloused palm was wrapped around his hand a moment later and Jensen felt his mouth go dry as he met bright blue eyes.

 

“Misha Collins.”

 

“ _Misha_ ,” Jared drawled, mocking Jensen’s twang.

 

Jensen tried not to flush, but fuck, he’d earned that one. Thankfully, _Misha_ didn’t seem too perturbed. He merely raised an eyebrow and looked him right in the eye.

 

“I don’t think you can talk there, _Jensen_.”

 

Jensen’s grin widened into a real smile. “No. I don’t suppose I can.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

2\. Complaints 

 

Jared slumped over the table, wishing it was tall enough to let him kick his feet. “Can we go home yet?”

 

Jensen sighed and fought the urge to yawn again. “No, we can’t go home yet.”

 

“Why not?” Jared whined. “I want to go home, I’m beat, and I want to take the makeup off already.”

 

“Because,” Jensen snorted, rolling his eyes, looking towards the room they had both been kicked out of. “We’re waiting for precious _Meeeeeeeeeesha_ to finish his coverage, so you and I can shoot the final scene of the night.”

 

“Oh,” Jared huffed. “ _Right_.”

 

Jensen closed both of his eyes and yawned, giving in. “You shouldn’t have bugged him so much.”

 

“He got me right back!” Jared protested, opening an eye to stare at Jensen.

 

“Yeah, but now because he can’t keep a straight face and shoot his damn coverage, we’re stuck here,” Jensen growled.

 

Jared pouted. “You were teasing him too!”

 

Jensen squinted at Jared and hated that he was right. A lot right, even. He’d been worse than Jared, because he’d figured out that a simple quirk of an eyebrow was enough to send Misha into gales of laughter.

 

“Good thing that I excel under pressure,” Misha said, walking out of the room with a yawn. “You two are just tests for me to conquer.”

 

Jared jumped up from the table. “Can we go shoot?” he asked, eager to be at home. In his bed. _Sleeping_.

 

Misha snorted and rolled his eyes. “No, they’re going to keep you in here forever, and you’re going to watch me go home and enjoy my head touching the pillow while you two keep filming.”

 

Jared’s face fell. “But _Meeeeeeeeehsaaaaaaaaaa_ ,” he whined.

 

Misha winced. “Christ, quit the complaining, you sound like a three year old. I’ll stay, if you two hurry the fuck up.”

 

Jared brightened immediately. “Come on Jensen!”

 

Jensen rolled his eyes and met Misha’s eyes a moment later. He paused and quirked an eyebrow. Misha twitched. He raised the other eyebrow and Misha burst out laughing only seconds later.

 

He smirked.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

3\. Mocking

 

“So, do you know any good Russian names?” Jared asked, flipping through his phone.

 

Jensen blinked and stared at Jared, falling onto the couch next to him. “Russian? Aren’t you Polish?”

 

Jared rolled his eyes and glared at Jensen. “Of course I’m polish, you think last names like Padalecki are English?”

 

Jensen snorted and rolled his eyes. “Fair enough. But that still doesn’t explain asking about Russian names.”

 

“Misha,” Jared said, tapping at his phone again, pulling up a baby name book.

 

“Misha,” Jensen repeated. “What does Misha have to do with this?”

 

Jared glared at him. “Were you deaf earlier, or did you just tune out the entire conversation on principle?”

 

“I’m...confused?”

 

Jared sighed and looked up from his phone. “Misha. Is Russian. And I was teasing him, trying to get me to tell him what his real name is.”

 

“Misha isn’t his real name?” Jensen asked, blinking at Jared.

 

“Jen, honestly! He fucking told us that!” Jared snapped.

 

Jensen scowled and pulled out his phone, opening it and staring blankly at the screen. He might have been a bit distracted watching Misha to pay attention to what he had been saying. But Misha had been wearing a pair of jeans that he hadn’t seen before and they’d been...attention grabbing. And Misha had known it, constantly twisting and turning like he was showing them off. _Bastard_.

 

“Ilya?” Jared tossed out, squinting at his phone. “I could see Misha as an ‘Ilya’.”

 

Misha was _Misha_ , and that was half the problem. Jensen sighed and pulled up the first website that offered several Russian baby names. “We’d need him here to tell us if we’re right or wrong.”

 

Jared waved a hand. “Worry about that later. Nikolai?”

 

Jensen shook his head. “It would never be anything normal. How about Boris?” he suggested, giving a wicked grin. “That would explain why he wanted to change it.”

 

Jared rolled his eyes and kept scrolling through his list. “It would never be something as simple as that.”

 

“Fine,” Jared said. “Vladimir?”

 

Jensen laughed. “That would be the epitome of Russian cliche if his real name was Vladimir.”

 

“Nah, that would be if his name was Dmitri,” Jared said.

 

Jensen and Jared shared a look before bursting out laughing. “Dmitri would be awful, could you imagine?”

 

Jensen immediately picked up a heavy Russian accent. “Hello, my name is Dmitri-”

 

“My wife is Sasha and my nemesis is definitely not named Boris,” Jared continued, cracking up only seconds later. “Oh god, Jen, we’re horrible. It’s definitely not Dmirtri.”

 

“It definitely _is_ Dmitri, though my accent has never been as bad as that. Just constantly mocked, similar to what you’re doing now,” Misha said, flopping on the couch beside Jared, giving them both a grin.

 

Jensen bit his lip and felt guilty immediately, staring at Misha. “Misha, we didn’t-”

 

Misha waved his hand. “I got over it a long time ago. But your accents need work, I’ve heard eight year olds do better.”

 

Jared flushed and stared down at the couch. “Sorry, Misha. Or, Dmitri.”

 

Misha laughed and narrowed his eyes at Jared. “Misha is fine. More people know me by Misha than they do by Dmirtri, so don’t worry about it. Now, I need to teach the two of you how to do a proper accent, because if you’re going to mock me, you’re going to do it _properly_.”

 

Jensen looked at Misha and cleared his throat. “Misha-”

 

“Come on now,” Misha said, reaching out and punching Jensen in the shoulder. “It’ll give us something to do while they set up the blocking for the next scene.”

 

Jensen sagged back into the couch and narrowed his eyes. “All right. Fine. Master of accents, Misha Collins, teach away!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

4\. Teasing 

 

Jensen fell against Misha's side, covering his mouth to muffle his laughter. Jared was, Jared was still blinking at them owlishly through the mixture of shaving cream and banana cream on his face and they weren't going to have long to savor this at _all_.

 

Misha waved a hand as Jared's eyes narrowed in on them and he tugged Jensen away. Jared was going to realize exactly who was to blame in half a second, and they definitely didn't have long to get a headstart.

 

Of course, Jensen, bastard that he was, turned and looked over his shoulder and burst out laughing all over again. Misha just watched him laugh, his whole body bent in half before they started to stumble forward again, Jared not far behind.

 

"You can't mess us up!" Misha said, backing away quickly. "We still have scenes to shoot!

 

Jared paused and looked from Misha to Jensen and narrowed his eyes. He licked his lips and immediately spit out the mixture. "Seriously, you couldn't even let me enjoy the banana cream? You had to mix it with shaving cream?"

 

Jensen immediately burst into gales of laughter all over again. "Fucking hell, you should, you should have seen your face Jare. Oh god, I'm going to be laughing over this for years."

 

Misha tugged on Jensen's arm as Jared started to stride towards them again. "Jen, Jen, we've got to go, we've got to go _now_ ," Misha said, grinning at Jared, laughing when Jared slipped a little on the cream dripping off of his face.

 

"Don't worry, Mish, Jared won't do anything, not when we still have scenes to shoot, would he?" Jensen asked, stopping and crossing his arms in the middle of the hallway, waiting only a few seconds before bursting into laughter all over again.

 

Misha blinked and stared at Jensen, the nickname catching him off guard. Jared's rapidly advancing figure made him remember himself and he ducked behind Jensen. "It was his idea!"

 

Jensen rolled his eyes. "It was my idea, bullsHI-NNGF!!"

 

Misha peeked around Jensen, wondering exactly what that suspicious squelching sound had been, because it was absolutely not good. _Not at all_.

 

Jensen's entire face was covered in the same banana cream/shaving cream mixture as Jared and he was blinking in surprise. Misha couldn't help it, he burst out laughing, loud, hard laughter as he fell back against the wall, staring at them both.

 

"Oh fuck, I'm so screwed, I know, I'm going to get it, in half a second, but fuck, you both made the exact same face when you got hit," Misha wheezed out between laughs as both Jared and Jensen turned towards him as one, their faces curling into wide smirks.

 

"Hey Mish," Jensen drawled, wiping some of the mixture off of his face, stepping closer to Misha. "C'mere. Got something I want to show you."

 

Misha rolled his eyes and ducked between the both of them, sprinting down the hallway. "Catch me if you can!" he called, booking it.

 

"Shit!"

 

Misha heard at least one of them slip and fall and he grinned, because the other one was definitely going to stay and help whoever had fallen, which meant that he was pretty much in the-

 

" _Unf_!" Misha grunted as he was tackled and dropped to the ground, thrashing when cream was immediately shoved into his face. "Oh fuck, this is _disgusting_."

 

Jensen was panting hard as he stood up, laughing between breaths. "Think...you were going to get away that fucking easy, did you?"

 

Misha looked up at Jensen and grinned, wiping the stuff out of his eyes and off of his mouth. He coughed and grinned up at him, bright and wide. "Fuck no, but I wasn't expecting you to tackle me either."

 

Jensen winked and stretched and looked down at the mess of his shirt. "They're going to fucking kill us for getting messy when we only had a few shots to do for the rest of the night..."

 

"That would be _your_ fault for deciding to prank Jared," Misha said, getting up to his feet. He definitely didn't stare as Jensen bent over and wiped off as much of the cream as he could, trying to save the outfit that he was wearing. Damn, but that man was unfairly gorgeous.

 

He took a deep breath and wiped his face off, scowling at his hand. "Next time, though, Jared is right. Nix on the shaving cream."

 

Jensen nodded. "Yeah, definitely agreed there, Mish."

 

Misha blinked at the nickname again and smiled. "You do realize that Misha is a nickname, and you're shortening it further with another nickname?"

 

Jensen grinned and shrugged. "It suits you."

 

Misha was distracted, staring at that grin, that he forgot to respond. Instead he just smiled back at Jensen and pretended he wasn't thinking of licking that last little piece of what he thought was (probably) banana cream off of Jensen's lip.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Laughter - IndiaRussia style

 

Misha was about to take a bit of his biscuit when Jensen looked at him and gave him a sly look. He sighed and narrowed his eyes at him. “ _No_.”

 

Jensen pouted. A grown man should not have a pout that was better than any other person on the planet. It was rather awful, the way Jensen bit down on his lower lip and tilted his head so it looked like he was looking up through his lashes and-

 

“Pleeeeeeease?” Jensen pleaded, staring at Misha, clasping his hands together under his chin. “ _Pleeeeeeeeeeeease_.”

 

Misha sighed and looked up at the ceiling. “You are worse than a child, you know that, don’t you Jen?”

 

Jensen just gave him a pleased grin and looked around the table. “Wait until you hear him do this accent, I promise that you have never heard anything so funny in your entire life.”

 

Misha snorted. “You’re building them up just a little bit there, Jen.”

 

Jensen stuck his tongue out at Misha. “Because you refuse to do any build up.”

 

“Oh god, would you two stop fucking flirting and let Misha do the accent already?” Jared said, picking up his straw wrapper to throw at Misha. “Come on.”

 

Jensen rolled his eyes and reached up to pick the straw wrapper out of Misha’s hair, grinning at him. “Don’t listen to him, he just doesn’t appreciate how good your accent is.”

 

“You can _appreciate_ it all you want later,” Jared said with a leer. “Meanwhile, we’re waiting over here.”

 

Jensen looked back over to Misha and smiled. “Go ahead... _Dmitri_ ,” he goaded.

 

Misha sighed and looked up at the ceiling. He cleared his throat and pointed to Jensen. “If you are going to insult me, Jen, do it properly,” he growled, dropping his voice into the tenor that he needed for this particular accent.

 

Jensen immediately burst into laughter and Misha did his best to pretend that he didn’t want to do it even more, just so he could listen to that laughter. He cleared his throat and looked around the table, pointing to Mark, just to watch his eyebrow raise.

 

~!~

 

“You know,” Jensen said later, his arm slung around Misha’s neck. “You need to do that at a con one of these days. Everyone would die.”

 

Misha snorted and rolled his eyes. “What is your obsession with pimping me out like a party trick?”

 

Jensen threw his head back and laughed again. “Well, I want everyone to appreciate your talents like I do, so maybe I do a little bit of pimping for you!”

 

“I’ll see what I can do,” Misha said, narrowing his eyes at Jensen. He had an idea. Jensen might kill him for it, but it would seriously be worth it, just to see how the fans reacted. It was always fun to tease them with different things, and this would be so, so much more than an accent.

 

“Uh-oh,” Jensen said, eyeing Misha. “Why do I get the feeling-”

 

“Oh don’t worry,” Misha said airily, waving a hand. “I promise that I’ll behave. ...Mostly.”

 

“It’s always that _mostly_ that you have to throw in,” Jensen grumbled, rolling his eyes.

 

Misha smirked and shrugged, heading back to the hotel, getting his plans a little more solid. The fangirls were about to get something that would fuel their fanfiction fantasies for months. Maybe _years_.

 

~!~

 

Misha sauntered up onto the stage, holding out his arms as the crowd screamed even louder than before. He did love an adoring crowd.

 

Jensen only raised his eyebrow at him and Misha winked. “I did promise to behave, after all.”

 

The fans immediately screamed, wondering what he was getting and imagining some of the naughtiest things imaginable. Misha might have imagined a few of them himself, because, well, it _was_ Jensen after all. He grinned and sauntered closer, bumping Jensen’s hip with his. He wrapped an arm around Jensen’s shoulders and looked out at the crowd. “Who wants me to cause some mischief?”

 

The crowd screamed again and Misha turned to look at Jensen who was… Misha blinked when Jensen’s eyes snapped to his. Had Jensen been staring at his lips? Had, had… Jensen was flushing a little bit, staring at him, clearly afraid that he was going to do something that he wouldn’t like.

 

Misha changed his mind on what he had been planning in a second. If Jensen had been staring at his lips, well. He wasn’t about to let that lie. “I think they want me to cause some mischief, Jen.”

 

Jensen narrowed his eyes and lifted the microphone. “Do your worst, _Dmitri_ ,” he drawled.

 

Misha rolled his eyes and looked out at everyone. “He likes to pretend he’s good at accents, but we all know just how terrible he really is.” The crowd laughed, giving him time to set up what he had planned. He shifted a little and leaned in to whisper into Jensen’s ear. “Trust me?”

 

“I do,” Jensen responded.

 

Misha bit down the shiver and groan that wanted to escape at Jensen using _those_ particular words. Fucking teasing bastard. He shifted both of his arms, obscuring them from view and leaned in. He stopped, millimeters from kissing Jensen properly and stared at him. Jensen’s eyes were wide and stunned, staring at him.

 

“Mish-”

 

Misha made another stupid, split second decision and brushed their lips together, the lightest touch he could manage, before he pulled himself away and wiped at his mouth. “Fuck, Jensen, did you have to use tongue? Man, I was ready for a kiss, but having your tongue shoved down my throat? Tone down the eagerness a tad, you aren’t fourteen anymore.”

 

The crowd laughed again and Misha saw that it had also given Jensen enough time to recover, though he was still staring. Misha winked at him. “Well? Anything to say for yourself?”

 

“Yeah,” Jensen said, lifting the mic. “You need more practice.”

 

The crowd roared with laughter and Misha stared at Jensen, tilting his head a little, wondering if Jensen meant that in more than one way.

 

Huh. _Well then._

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

+1 Whispers

 

It wasn’t long after JIB that Misha got his night-long-marathon answer to exactly how much practice he needed. Jensen might not have been fourteen, but Misha couldn’t help being proud of the fact that they had worn each other out, completely to the bone.

 

And then, of course, they had taken the next morning to do it all over again. Which had been very, _very_ satisfying.

 

But now he was starting to wonder if that’s all there was in Jensen’s eyes. Any second they were alone, Jensen seemed determined to jump him, or pin him to the nearest flat surface for a quickie. Under normal circumstances Misha would have loved this and indulged in a large portion of his own pinning.

 

But he didn’t know what the hell they _were_ to each other.

 

He’d thought, at first, that they were going to be boyfriends, or something along those lines. (Labels didn’t matter in particular to him, but _he_ would like to know for the sake of his own sanity.) But then whenever he asked, Jensen avoided it, or distracted him. Jensen could be very distracting when he wanted to, and dammit he was fucking _good_ at it.

 

Misha sighed and leaned back on the couch in his trailer. He was being stupid, he should be glad that he got to see Jensen naked on a regular basis, no matter what the terms were. That man was so gorgeous it was a lot painful, and damn if he didn’t want to just eat the sight of Jensen up all of the time.

 

On the other hand, if this wasn’t going to go anywhere, and he was already in far, far, _far_ too deep to be comfortable, he should get out now, before things got awkward. He bit down on his lip and sighed, staring out the window of the trailer. But first he had to nut up and fucking ask Jensen what they were. Because he really, really, _really_ wanted it to be something.

 

“Mish, you in here?” Jensen called, opening the door to the trailer.

 

Misha sighed and leaned back against the couch. “Haven’t you ever heard of knocking?”

 

Jensen climbed the steps and shut the door behind him. “You never bother to knock.”

 

He snorted, despite himself and lifted his head to look at Jensen. “Yes, but that’s a terrible habit of mine and not something that you should start doing.”

 

“Why not?” Jensen asked, rolling his hips and kicking off his shoes as he walked closer to Misha. “Afraid I might interrupt you when you’re... _busy_?”

 

Misha snorted and narrowed his eyes at Jensen. “If you think that I have the time or _energy_ to jerk off after ten hours of filming, not sleeping much thanks to someone else, and…” he yawned. “You jumping me during lunch, you are greatly over-estimating my stamina.”

 

Jensen grinned. “You sure I can’t convince you otherwise?” he asked.

 

“Well, yes, you very likely could, but I’d rather you tell me something else, first,” Misha said, lifting his head off of the couch to stare at Jensen.

 

Jensen straddled Misha’s thighs and rested his forearms on the other man’s shoulders. “Oh? What would you like me to tell you?”

 

Misha swallowed hard and stared at Jensen. “What are we?”

 

Jensen rolled his eyes and leaned in, kissing Misha soft and gentle. “ _Us_. Exactly what we’ve always been.”

 

It was the same not-answer that he had been getting for weeks and Misha was sick of it. He narrowed his eyes at Jensen and reached out to trail his fingers down Jensen’s jaw and over the stubble that Dean had now taken to sporting. “Jen…”

 

Jensen snorted and kissed Misha harder, pressing him back and into the couch, rocking his hips against Misha. “That’s what we are though. Us.”

 

Misha felt suffocated and he pushed Jensen off of him and onto the couch. He took a deep breath and backed away from the couch, running his hand through his hair, turning away to look out the window. It was clear now, in the way Jensen never wanted to answer him, not completely. He’d been stupid to think that Jensen-

 

“Mish?”

 

Misha turned around to look at Jensen and confused green eyes were enough to have him snapping. “ _Enough_ , Jensen.”

 

Jensen frowned and sat down on the couch, studying Misha. “Enough? What does that mean? If you’re really tired, man, just tell me.”

 

Misha rubbed a hand over his face and took a deep breath before he looked at Jensen. “Will you tell me why you keep avoiding the damn question?”

 

“What?” Jensen asked, staring at Misha in surprise.

 

“Come on, _Jenny_ ,” Misha goaded, narrowing his eyes at Jensen. “Stop avoiding the question. What am I to you? A fuckbuddy? Someone to fool around with? Someone to just pass the time with while you wait for someone better? I’d really like to know.”

 

Jensen froze. “Wh-what?”

 

The surprise and hurt on Jensen’s face had Misha deflating a second later, any thought of staying angry disappearing in the face of the pain he could clearly see now. He pushed his fingers through his hair again and tugged impatiently on the ends. “I’m sorry.”

 

Jensen stood up, walking over to Misha. “But you meant it, didn’t you? That’s what you think you are to me.”

 

“You have avoided the question every single time I’ve asked, Jensen,” Misha said, his voice quiet and flat. “I want to know so I can…” he took a deep breath. “I want to know so that I can work on getting over you if that’s all I am.”

 

Misha sneaked a glance at Jensen and the other man looked thunderstruck. He flinched. He should have kept his damn mouth shut. He knew better. He fucking knew better than to go fall for Jensen.

 

“Misha,” Jensen said, reaching out to take Misha’s wrist, cradling Misha’s hand carefully in his own. “You aren’t, fuck, you aren’t a fuckbuddy, or someone I’m just fooling around with.”

 

Misha’s heart was pounding in his chest and he looked down at their hands, shivering as Jensen’s thumb slowly traced the lines on his palm. “Then what…” he stared as Jensen met his eyes and gave him a sheepish smile and shrug.

 

“Misha, you’re the strangest man I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. _Ever_. That’s pretty impressive, considering, you know, Hollywood,” Jensen said, taking another deep breath. “But whenever I answered _‘us’_ it wasn’t because I was trying to make you feel...like that.”

 

“Then what?” Misha asked, because Jensen was maybe making little zings of pleasure run up his spine with every slow sweep of his fingers.

 

Jensen huffed out a laugh. “I was trying to respect your uniqueness. You’re not one who likes labels, you’ve said that to me multiple times. What we are, we’re, we’re so much more than one of those labels.”

 

Misha’s head was spinning and he’d never seen Jensen look like this before, a little shy and a little amused all at the same time. “I, more?”

 

“Misha,” Jensen growled. He reached out and wrapped his hand around the back of Misha’s neck and tugged him in closer. “If I’d known you wanted to call us boyfriends, or lovers, or, or something else, I would have told you to start that weeks ago.”

 

Misha blinked. The world was tilted a lot sideways and he needed to find his balance.

 

“But I kinda…” Jensen looked down at their hands. “I kinda just wanted to call you _mine_. And I’d be yours.”

 

That registered in a way that the rest of Jensen’s words hadn’t and Misha looked up into Jensen’s eyes and smiled at him. “Mine, huh?” He tugged Jensen in for a kiss and started to back him towards the bedroom, feeling Jensen smile against his lips.

 

“Us? I like the sound of that.”

 

Misha kicked the door shut behind them and tumbled Jensen to the bed. “Say it again,” he ordered softly.

 

Jensen pushed himself up onto his elbows and smirked at Misha. “ _Mine_.”

 

Misha shivered and stripped off the trenchcoat. “Again,” he demanded.

 

“ _Mine_ ,” he whispered, licking his lips.

 

Misha crawled on top of Jensen, straddling his waist. He wrapped his arms around Jensen’s shoulders and leaned in, kissing him, softly. “Mine,” he echoed back.

 

Jensen smiled into his kiss. “Yours,” he whispered.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and Criticisms welcome!
> 
> You can find me here: 
> 
> [Aria-Lerendeair ](http://aria-lerendeair.tumblr.com/)
> 
> You can find sassydean here:
> 
> [Sassydean](http://profuond.tk/)
> 
> You can also watch me write fics like this (and dozens of others) live! Follow me on Livestream for fics, shenanigans and a general all-around awesome time! http://new.livestream.com/accounts/7212317


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